Etched
by ReNut
Summary: "You should have killed me." Post season 7 finale. Debster. Rated M for pure smut.


_**A/N** - Oh wow. So I've been watching Dexter for the past 2 weeks, and I got hooked instantly. Just started season 8 (sadly, I already know how it ends and I refuse to believe they fucked everything up like that and didn't go through with debster), but I couldn't get the season 7 finale out of my head. This is pure smut, simple as that, with different toppings of emotional destruction and heart break, nothing too sweet, I promise. Also this is meant to be a one-shot thingy, but i might continue if you guys really want me to. Read and review! Enjoy!  
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_"It doesn't matter what I do, or what I choose, I'm what's wrong and there's nothing I can do about it**."**_

**Etched**

The clock struck midnight. Her grip on his arm tightened immensely, and he realized it was going to hurt tomorrow. She followed him like a lost sheep through the flying champagne corks, squealing people and kissing couples, paying no mind to any of it particularly. She stumbled upon an empty beer cup, and if it weren't for her mental state, she would have winced in pain. She was still barefoot. He stopped, making her stop on her tracks in turn. He lowered his body towards her and placed one arm behind her knees and the other on the small of her back. She was light as a feather when he carried her through the still raging crowd who were now all paying attention to the colorful charade above their heads. From green, to yellow and a bright shade of red, the noise was too much for her as she placed both of her hands above her ears, blocking the cheerful sound. There was no place for cheer tonight, at least not for her. He stopped once more only to place a soft kiss on her lips, whispering a husky "Happy New Year", his nose buried in her hair. Something stirred inside of him when their noses brushed ever so lightly, tellin him it was the right thing to do. Was it?

Her eyes were still blank when she turned to look at him, finally acknowledging his presence. She wrapped her arms around his neck and placed her head above his chest, listening to his shallow, broken breathes, matching her own. He couldn't help but embrace her even tighter to him, seeing as she looked so fragile for a change, and the realization that he was the one to break her beyond belief was enough to send him on his knees that night, to drop the knife to the floor and raise both of his hands in the air, surrendering to her like he should have done years ago. The minute the sound of the the cool metal of the knife hitting the cold concrete floor reached his ears, he knew that it was time, and he was willing to die for her, so she could finally get her happily ever after, far away from him. He should have known better.  
"What have I done..?" She mumbled shakily as she deftly unbuttoned his shirt from the top. He was wrong; there was no happily ever after for her, not without him, his selfish self.  
He placed his steady hands on her shaking ones, stopping her firmly.

"You should have killed me." He said, searching for her empty gaze. All of a sudden there was no emptiness; there was pure anger when she pushed him away with both hands, causing him to stagger backwards violently.

"I-I... Should have killed you?" She half snorted half laughed frantically, tears welling up in her hazel eyes that magically turned green from his angle, glowing viciously at him.  
She stepped forward and pushed him again more forcefully this time.

"It's all about you... It's always all about you, isn't it?" she whispered through greeted teeth, stepping forward once more to push him or punch him once again, he didn't feel like guessing.  
He placed both of his palms on her wrists, shutting her down for a moment. She didn't struggle, she just kept boring into his eyes with her stare, filled with hatred and fury and... Love, never ending love that he sadly knew would cost her a lot more than tonight, if ever.

They didn't bother to turn the lights on when they got inside her house, so it was relatively dark, making her stare a bit more terrifying for him. Thinking of his answer to Hannah the other day, he failed to mention he was truly scared for the third time in his life when his world stood still as he heard Debra's gasp at the church that night, realizing he was about to lose her for good, knowing he cannot afford to do that.

He took a couple of steps forward, at first hesitantly, forcing her backwards, her wrists still tightly wrapped in his hands. He kept moving, more confidently this time, until she was pinned against the refrigerator, the cold metal pressed tightly to her upper half bare back. She gasped at the exhilarating sensation as he pinned her wrists above her head, his breath impossibly close to her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

"It's all about me." He murmured and pressed his body to hers so she could feel all of him. A slight moan escaped her mouth when she felt the telltale hardness of him against her thigh, making her damp with need and want.  
"I fucking hate you, Dexter", she said, her voice raspy and dripping with venom as her teeth found his jaw, marking him like an animal. He growled at her, suddenly very aware of her breasts pressed to his chest, of the growing urge to fuck her to oblivion until none of them could move or walk for days.

He grabbed both of her wrists in one hand now, as his other moved to her back, slowly unzipping her dress yet never breaking their intense gaze. She caught his lower lip with her teeth, pulling and sucking at it until the zipper was pulled all the way down.

"Kiss me." Her voice was wickedly hoarse and dangerous.  
His eyes dropped to her lips, sighing momentarily at her lush, swollen flesh, waiting for him to devour it, only for him. He caught her lips in a searing kiss, gentle yet fierce, letting her know he was here to stay. She moaned and opened her mouth for him, letting her tongue stroke his in a beautiful, elegant dance. He couldn't help but release her wrists at last so he could touch every inch of her slender body, one hand resting on her shoulder, and one cupping her cheek. He slid the strap of her dress down her shoulder to her arm, her collarbone suddenly exposed to him in its beautiful features. His fingers traced her throat oh so gently, his lips slowly following the trail as they went. He nibbled and licked, bruising her jaw and neck, marking her as his. His hand went to cup her small yet firm and perky breast that was now exposed under her dress, groaning as it fit perfectly into his palm, her nipple becoming rock hard under his callused-from-years-of-sailing fingers. Her breath was cut short when he caught her nipple with his teeth, twisting and turning, swirling his tongue around it and sucking at it harshly. Her hand gripped at his hair, pulling at it and seeking leverage for balance, her knees barely holding her above ground.

"Fuck." She hissed into thick air as he gave her other breast the same treatment, his hands pushing her dress down her body to pool around her feet and coming to rest on her toned thighs, squeezing them with desire.  
As they grew up over the years, he couldn't help but admire her body, wanting nothing but to touch it, but knowing that Harry would disapprove and die all over again if he only knew. He was never able to avert his gaze from her, catching a glimpse here and there when she would take a shower at his place, watching her undress and trying oh so hard not to touch himself and succumb to his needs.

She hurriedly kicked the dress to the other side of the kitchen, gasping once again at the feeling of the freezing metal pressed to her heated body. His hands moved to cup her ass, lifting her off the ground and placing her legs just above his shoulders as he was kneeling before her, inhaling sharply - the smell of her arousal making him dizzy. Her grip in his hair tightened when he blew impossibly hot air onto her panties covered core. She started panting heavily when he pushed her panties aside, flicking his tongue just above her clit.  
"Ohmyfuckingod." She released in one breath when his lips captured her clit just right, sucking on it with no mercy whatsoever and licking her slit with the flat of his tongue. She was dripping wet, and knowing it was him who did this to her was enough to send an agonizing twitch to his groin. She couldn't help but grind against his mouth, seeking release but not wanting it to end.

"Motherfucking Jesus!" She exclaimed, intoxicated, when he inserted not one, but two fingers inside of her, pointing them towards him in a "come here" gesture so he could reach her sweet spot, making her knees buck above his shoulders.

"You taste amazing." He released between sucking noises, letting her know that even though they both established not too long ago that he believed in no one but himself, right there and then, she was his goddess, and he was more than pleased to serve.

He was rewarded with an annoyed snarl of protestation when he paused, only to lap up on her juices one more time, savoring her taste. Her eyes snapped open, her mouth slightly parted, and as he rose, she figured he was wearing far too many clothes. She kissed him roughly, plundering at his lips, tasting herself on his tongue as her hands finishes the job they started way too long ago, unbuttoning his shirt with nothing but lust and love for the man she would kill again and again for. She pushed his dress shirt off; glad he had to dispose of his kill shirt after cleaning up the scene with LaGuerta and was forced to change along the way. She despised that shirt with her life for all it stood.  
Her hands roamed all over his buffed chest, his muscles coming to life under her touch. She fumbled with his belt and zipper, pushing his pants down none too gently before kneeling in front of him. His head dropped to look at her through heavy-lidded eyes, clouded with desire, waiting for her next move. She gingerly pulled his boxers down, revealing his impossibly hard erection, and the thickest she has ever laid her eyes on. She swallowed deftly and licked her lips, wanting him to know there was no place else she would rather be, never losing eye contact as she took him into her mouth, sucking and taking him all the way down, swirling her tongue around the tip, causing him to snap his head back and rewarding her with a relatively loud moan.

"Oh god", he rasped as she kept on going, bobbing her head up and down, one of her hands squeezing his inner thigh. His hands came to tangle in her hair for guidance as he bucked his hips towards her mouth, allowing her only a few seconds to breath in between. He was out of control.  
According to his increasing moans, she popped him out of her mouth when she realized he was on edge and impossibly close to release, earning his turn of a surprised gasp and a disappointed look. He was still throbbing when she used her hand to stroke him while rising to her feet, making sure to slide tightly against him in the process.  
"I want you inside me", she explained while wrapping her arms around his neck, her legs doing the same around his waist, feeling his cock brushing her impossibly wet folds, begging for entrance, nearly sending her over the edge. He walked them to her bedroom, kissing and biting on her neck all along.  
"I fucking want you", his voice was on the verge of trembling when he sucked hard on her neck.  
"Fuck me." She simply whispered in his ear just when he dropped her onto the bed, wasting no time to climb on top of her. He positioned himself at her entrance, rubbing himself against her clit and smearing through her wetness, waiting for her approval, which came in the form of her feet pressing right at the dimples above his ass, forcing him to thrust and fill her up completely.  
They gasped in unison as he slowly started to move inside of her. His size was anything but normal, yet she was quick to adjust, limiting his movements at the beginning just so she could feel him filling the void inside of her, not letting him thrust much at first. He used every emotion he had left with each and every valuable thrust, loving the way her mouth formed this perfect 'o' whenever he reached his destination.

"D-deeper." She gasped as he obliged, lifting her thighs off the mattress so he could change the angle and go deeper. She felt incredibly tight around him, demanding his entire ability to focus so he won't lose it and ram into her like the true animal that he is, but she didn't seem to mind. She liked it rough and kept encouraging him with _fuck me_, _please_, _harder_ and _faster_. His thumb, finding her swollen clit between them was more than enough to send her beyond the fence to the ultimate eternal white bliss, screaming his name with different versions of _fuck_ and _oh god_, her orgasm continuing with his harsh thrusts that were starting to hurt her. She took pleasure in the pain, knowing he was fucking her from deep within, with no control what so ever, with the help of his true self, his 'Dark Passenger'.

"Fuck, Deb, I'm-"  
She muffled his words with her mouth, kissing him full on the lips, flipping them over with him still inside of her. She was in control now, riding him with everything she had. His hands went instantly to cup both of her breasts, thinking she was never more beautiful to him than now, the feminine yet strong figure of hers dominating him completely as she lowered herself on his throbbing cock, harder and deeper with each matching thrust of his hips. Their slick bodies were creating sweet melody to his ears, slapping against each other and causing him to thrust even faster if possible. He moved his torso forward, embracing her as she rode him, her nails nearly drawing blood at his back.

"I don't deserve you." He said while biting her earlobe, her rhythm getting fast and furious at his words. He was the reason she was broken. He was the reason she was half the Deb he once knew, shattered and barely breathing to make it through the nights.

"You're all I have. You're everything I have." She said in return, grabbing his hand with hers, their fingers intertwining instantly. "Do you understand? I fucking love you" She said, looking directly at him this time, not daring to break their contact as they kept moving. He nodded, letting her know that he understands. He started throbbing violently inside of her, feeling her walls clenching around him in return. She loved him more than he could ever love her back. He was a monster, once neat, but not anymore. He came inside her with a loud grunt, thrusting a few more valuable thrusts to allow her and reach her peak for her second time, screaming his name once again. He couldn't help but think how even more fucked up it would be if she turned out to be pregnant, his child growing inside of her. A brother or a sister to Harrison, the mother of his children, his significant other. Instead of frightening him, the thought gave him this fuzzy, unfamiliar feeling as her pants were slowing down, her nose buried in his neck. She was holding him for dear life.

"I'm not going anywhere..." He whispered in reassurance and stroked her hair, her tears dripping down his chest. She was sobbing frantically now, realizing what has been done, _what she's done_. He wasn't going anywhere, and she desperately needed to do just that. She rolled off of him, staring at the ceiling for a long moment, her tears drying up slowly on her heated cheeks before rising up to her feet, collecting her discarded clothes from all over the house and putting a set of boxers and an old police force t shirt on. She grabbed her car keys from the cabinet beside her bed, pressing the sharp metal onto her palm using the pain to let herself know she's still awake, that this wasn't a bad dream. LaGuerta was still dead, the feeling of her still warm body in her arms etched inside her mind, and the horribly good sensation of her brother deep inside her refusing to leave her still aching body.  
She turned to look at him. He was still lying in the same position, a look of realization on his face, and she knew, it finally downed on him.

"I should have killed you." She simply said, closing the door behind her on a doomed past and opening the one to a worse future.


End file.
